


to end up right back here

by preciousthings



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Getting Back Together, M/M, Student government
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-07 05:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15901404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciousthings/pseuds/preciousthings
Summary: so are you gonna tell tommy you’re still in love with him or should i, the text from Lovett says, and Jon feels his face flushing.(or: It has to be Tommy, because it was supposed to be Tommy before everything, and Jon is certain that it’ll just always be Tommy, period.)





	to end up right back here

**Author's Note:**

> what good is having a deeply intricate knowledge of student government associations if you can't put it to use in fanfiction, am i right? a lot of the student government-specific details in this are based on my school's specific structure, which i've come to realize is a bit different compared to most other american universities, so there's a bit of an explanation on how it works in the end notes that isn't necessary to understand the fic, but there nonetheless (but they're a lil spoiler-y!). Irl age differences don’t exist in this because i make the rules, and even though they all went to college in the late 90s, this takes place now cause #technology. the title is from 'same drugs’ by chance the rapper.
> 
> love to my small village—mel, meredith, grace, lotts, and ash—for reading, cheerleading, and generally being great people, and shout out to the best bot in the world, alex desprintcat.
> 
> the fourth wall is your friend! please respect that and the locked nature of this fic! <3

Jon is with Lovett when they get the email.

They’re in the basement of the library with textbooks open, though they aren’t really reading them, they’re mostly just burning excess energy together because the election results should be coming in soon. They’re camped out there, both done with classes for the day, and stress-eating the fries Ronan snuck down there from the caf on his way to a meeting. Lovett’s phone pings from where it’s sitting face down on table. He picks it up and scrolls mostly with a neutral expression, until, “holy fuck, Jon, check your email.”

Jon digs his phone out of his backpack and opens an email with the subject **Election Results!** with cautious optimism, and—

_President: Jonathan Favreau_

_Treasurer: Jonathan Lovett_

Jon looks at Lovett over the top of his phone screen. “Holy shit, Lovett,” he says, smiling. “We won.”

“They’re actually trusting us to run this thing,” Jon adds, but he’s not really surprised that Lovett won; he’s always been pretty reliable and really kicked ass as assistant treasurer and with budget committee this year. He’s a little more surprised about himself, if he’s being honest.

“Well, yeah,” Lovett says, like it’s obvious or something. “We’re gonna kick ass.”

Jon takes another fry from the container, even though he mentally cut himself off ten minutes ago, considering it a victory fry. “Dream team,” he says.

“Hey,” Lovett says, still reading the email. Jon had locked his phone as soon as he’d seen his name. “Senate looks really good, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Everyone that’s been talking about filling the e-board made it.”

Jon hates the way his mind immediately goes to Tommy, if Tommy made it, because he and Tommy had always talked about being on the executive board together. It had been their plan for senior year; the two of them and Lovett on the e-board—president, treasurer, and senior vice president. They’re ⅔ of the way there, with Jon and Lovett getting elected, but Tommy—

Tommy and Jon broke up three months ago.

It was mutual enough, and had been building for a while before Tommy finally brought it up, and when they fought it was explosive, the worst fight they could have possibly had—all fierce and _mean_ and yelling just for the sake of yelling. But none of that changes everything Jon felt— _feels—_ for Tommy.

“Did Tommy?” Jon asks anyway, even though he has a pretty good feeling that yes, passionate and strong-willed and willingly-overworked frat-and-SGA-star Tommy Vietor got re-elected to the senate. It was basically a given before elections even started.

Lovett nods. “Told me last week that he’s going for SVP no matter who wins president. Do you think you’d be able to—”

“I don’t know, it’s—not right now, Lovett,” Jon says.

“No matter what, it’s gonna be fucking awesome,” Lovett says, and Jon nods.

He sees Ronan walking up to the table they’re at before Lovett does, and he gives him a little head-nod, a silent hello. Ronan comes up behind Lovett and kisses the top of his head before dropping down in the seat next to him.

“Hi,” Lovett smiles at him, and it’s so stupidly sweet to just watch the two of them exist together, because they aren’t shy about how much they love each other, even if it’s mostly through subtleties on Lovett’s part.

“Congrats,” Ronan says to Lovett, before turning to Jon. “You too, Mr. President.”

“Thanks,” Jon smiles.

“Lo, do you think there’s anything you can do about the newspaper’s budget now? Do I have any pull in reversing budget cuts as your partner?” Ronan asks, clearly joking, but the completely blank expression on Lovett’s face is priceless.

“Nepotism will get you nowhere, Farrow,” Lovett says. “Better start preparing that budget presentation now. Wow me.”

“You have no pull with me either,” Jon says. “And I’m not saying you should apply for e-board, but you should apply for e-board.”

Ronan and Lovett both shake their heads at the same time. “I’m way too busy,” Ronan says. “I’m editing the paper and I’m writing a thesis, so I’m content to hang out with the medias again next year since I suppose there’s no actual getting out of it at this point.”

“You’re stuck with me, which means you’re stuck in SGA,” Lovett says fondly. “Wait, how was your meeting? It was thesis stuff, right?”

Ronan nods, and starts telling Lovett about how the meeting went, and the newest developments on his thesis. Jon takes that opportunity to check out and start reading the open book in front of him, just to stop thinking about everything else for a little while.

 

 

Dan sends Jon an email two weeks later with a schedule of all the interviews he has to conduct to fill his e-board. He skims the message, already sort of dreading how many of these he’s going to have to do. There are two names under vice president of operations and sergeant at arms, one under executive assistant, and three under senior vice president.

Just like Lovett said he would, Tommy did apply for SVP, and he’s the last interview Jon has. He desperately hopes something in the first two applicants stands out in a way that’ll make him think twice about the way his mind is already made up.

It has to be Tommy, because it was supposed to be Tommy before everything, and Jon is certain that it’ll just always be Tommy, period.

 

 

The interview is fine. Better than Jon expects, even, but it’s his eighth and final interview and he really just wants an e-board already.

Tommy has better-than-usual answers to the generic questions that Jon’s been asking every candidate, and his ideas are great. SVP is an important position, and Tommy understands that best, understands that it’s partly his say how many points organizations get for their events, and that the points are crucial to everyone’s success. He _wants_ to see organizations succeed, and he gets how important it is that the top-twenty-percent of orgs is changing from year-to-year.

He’s the best fit for the job, and it’s impossible to convince himself otherwise anymore, now that Dan and Sarah are completely aware of how just how qualified Tommy is.

They talk once Tommy leaves, and it’s unanimous between the three of them that Tommy’s going to be the one recommended for appointment.

Sarah leaves for class, and Dan all but actually kicks Jon out of his office at that point. Jon’s office hours don’t end for another hour, so he sits on the floor of Lovett’s office for a half hour and doesn’t really talk, and then goes back to his cubicle to actually do executive assistant things. On his way out of the office, Dan stops behind Jon’s cubicle, so Jon swivels around in his chair.

“Email went out and Tommy accepted,” Dan says. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“I mean,” Jon shrugs, and it’s not a _no_ , not exactly, but it isn’t a yes either. “I want the best for student government, and if that means having my ex be my right hand man for a year, then I’ll do it.”

“You know that he’s probably going to get asked about it during his presentation. You too, so start preparing answers that are more convincing than the one you just gave me.”

“I’m working through it,” Jon says.

“If you want to give him a heads up about the kinds of questions that are probably getting asked, go for it.”

“Thanks,” Jon says, and once Dan leaves, Jon sends Tommy an email asking if he can get to the SGA meeting a little early so they can talk.

“Fuck,” Jon sighs. It’s not getting any easier.

 

 

Jon’s on edge the entire meeting that Tommy’s going. He’s second, after Priyanka. Alyssa was confirmed last week as vice president of operations, Tanya was confirmed last week as sergeant-at-arms and Jon is already so proud of this e-board. His leg is bouncing underneath the table, and he’s glad that part of his job right now is to take the meeting minutes, just because the near-constant typing gives him something to do with his hands.

Priyanka and Tanya both present, and the general consensus feels really good. There weren’t many questions and overwhelmingly positive comments once they’d left the room for closed discussion.

Tommy’s presentation is great, and it has everything he talked about in his interview, plus more. He has _pages_ of ideas; Jon had seen them before everything happened, and he’s being reminded of them now. He finishes the powerpoint, ending on a slide with the words “ANY QUESTIONS?” in huge font.

“I mean, it’s not a secret that you and Favreau broke up a few months ago, and I feel like most of us are probably wondering if it’s even possible for you to have a working relationship,” someone in the middle says when Tommy calls on her first. “So I’m just going to ask it now—how comfortable are you working with Favreau? Do you see your past becoming an issue?” It’s a fair question, one Jon had talked about with Tommy when they met before today’s meeting.

Tommy nods. “Jon and I are broken up, yeah, but it hasn’t affected our abilities to work together since the break-up, and neither of us see it becoming a problem if I become senior vice president. Academically and in SGA, we’ve always been so intertwined that yes, it was a clean break, but we’ve had plenty of fine interactions since that out of necessity to keep certain obligations running smoothly.”

Jon keeps his head down, eyes trained on his notepad. He knows that whoever isn’t looking at Tommy is looking at him for some kind of reaction, but right now he’s more focused on trying to breathe normally than anything else. It’s a good answer, a little rehearsed if anything, and if Jon didn’t know any better, hadn’t been fucking _living it_ , he’d believe Tommy. He’s going to have to lie and agree, put on a fucking smile and say it’s all fine, act like since it was mutual he can’t be heartbroken over the guy he’d thought about a fucking _future_ with. He’s going to have to say he’s fine with potentially having Tommy as his SVP, and the part that hurts Jon the most is that he actually is.

 _he’s sugarcoating it and i get why but fuck if hearing him say clean break didn’t hurt_ , Jon texts Lovett underneath the table.

At the front of the room, Tommy’s taking a question about his _actual_ qualifications, and not his ability to have civil conversations with his ex, though if both of them make it out of this on these terms or better, it’s a resumé-worthy skill. Jon takes a deep breath and finally stops looking down.

Alyssa leans over to whisper in Jon’s ear. “It’s gonna be okay, you know? No matter what the outcome of this is, I trust you and Tommy to be professional about it.”

“Nothing professional about missing him,” Jon whispers, and it comes out sounding a lot more watery than he expected. _Fuck_.

“You didn’t have to appoint him,” Alyssa says.

“He’s the best fit for the job, and that’s what it comes down to,” Jon says. “Doesn’t matter that we were together for two and a half years.” He turns his attention back to Tommy, vaguely, and his notepad, mostly. He has some stuff written down, things to say about Tommy if (when, more likely) he gets asked. He should probably be listening more intently, but he still knows Tommy like the back of his hand, even though it’s been three months since Jon stopped learning new things about him.

He almost texts Tommy before they start closed discussion on him, _you did great_ , but he stops himself, backspaces the message he’d typed out, and locks his phone.

Jon walks back up to the exec board table, sits in his actual seat, and waits. Dan starts calling on people to say their comments and ask their questions about Tommy, and Jon’s relieved that the first person he calls on is Alyssa.

“I think Tommy’s great,” Alyssa says, standing up. “You all saw his presentation. He’s so involved, we can see how much of an impact he’s had on his Greek organization. He clearly understands the inner workings of this organization and position. I think student government here will be better off once he hopefully has the chance to work his magic next year.”

Lovett gives a thumbs up, as if to say, _I was going to say exactly what she did_.

Jon takes a deep breath. It’s going better than he expected it to, and then—

A representative for a frat, not the one Tommy’s in, stands up. “Like Alyssa said, Tommy’s qualified, but no one else is saying it, and I know other people are thinking it. He’s fucking his way onto the executive board, and he’s totally been angling for this with Favreau since sophomore year. And like, I totally don’t hate the gays, but do they have to bring it into everything they do?”

Ben stands up, quickly calling a point of order because the comment has nothing to do with the fact that Tommy is running for SVP, and Jon is just so fucking _angry,_ he can’t even think of how to even begin defending himself, defending _Tommy_.

“Look, okay,” Lovett says, standing up. He turns toward the exec board, “Dan and Ben, you can totally kick me out after this, but I need to say something about that.” Dan and Ben look more amused than anything when Lovett turns to face the fraternity rep. “Do you think before you speak? Like, you just said that you ‘totally don’t hate the gays’ before you offended every gay person in this room. And you pissed me off.”

“Lovett,” Jon says.

“You could not be more wrong about Tommy and Jon’s situation and I think it’s horrible that you even brought that up, especially right now. We don’t take that kind of bullshit here, alright? End of rant,” Lovett says, and sits down.

Ben and Dan both stand up, and Ben explains why he called a point of order, and what that actually means. “Keep it in mind when you say something from now on, alright? Try to talk about Tommy’s qualifications.” Dan says, and continues to call on people from there.

Ronan stands up when Dan calls on him. He looks a little flustered, but still a little bit proud of Lovett. “I was wondering if Favreau was allowed to answer questions?”

Dan nods, Jon thinks _here we go_ , but he’s also silently grateful that it’s someone he knows and who knows their situation.

Ronan continues. “So, a few of us back here all had the same questions, and I’m just going to ask them all. What was the process of choosing Tommy like?”

“So,” Jon says, standing. “Three applicants interviewed with Dan, Sarah and I this past week, and based on the applications and interviews, we agreed that Tommy was the best fit.”

“Even though Tommy is your ex-boyfriend?” Ronan asks.

“I’m just going to put this all out here now, because I really think that we all need to be focusing on Tommy’s qualifications instead of this. For those who don’t know, yes, Tommy’s my ex-boyfriend. We were together for two and a half years, broke up almost four months ago, and despite all of that, he’s still the one I recommended for appointment because I wholeheartedly believe in him,” Jon takes a deep breath before he continues.

“As I’m sure you all saw, Tommy is hardworking, dedicated, and so passionate about that position and this organization. Give him a chance. He deserves your respect, just as much as anyone who isn’t my ex does, and he deserves a chance to show you all what he can do. But, uh, thanks for your questions, Ronan.”

“I also have a question for Jon,” Erin, one of the sorority reps, says. “Tommy said that your history wouldn’t be a problem going forward if he is appointed, but I was wondering how you feel about it.”

“Good question, Erin,” Jon says. “Tommy and I are 100% on the same page about that. I still respect him immensely and I don’t doubt my own abilities to have a working relationship with him. I wouldn’t have recommended him for appointment if that weren’t the case.”

Jon sits again, hoping he’s safe from the rest of the questions. He ducks his head and draws circles on his notepad to look occupied. His phone vibrates against his thigh, and he tries to be inconspicuous as he checks it.

 _so are you gonna tell tommy you’re still in love with him or should i_ , the text from Lovett says, and Jon feels his face flushing; he’s sure there’s color high on his cheeks.

 _fuck you_ , Jon texts back, followed by _wait was i that obvious?_

 _to me i guess maybe not to everyone_ , Lovett replies.

Another text, _but damn i wish he could’ve seen you talk about him like that_

 _it wouldn’t have changed anything_ , Jon texts back. _stop texting me during the meeting you’re a terrible treasurer-elect_

Jon locks his phone just as the conversation about Tommy is wrapping up, and Ben is letting him back into the room.

Onto the next piece of new business.

Jon feels a little bit less like there’s a weight on his chest, and little bit more confident about the future.

 

 

Dan adjourns the meeting and Jon hangs back, like he does after every meeting.

“Hey,” Dan says to him, when the crowd around their table as dispersed a little.

“Yeah?” Jon says, following Dan to a quieter spot against the wall.

“You did good today, despite everything,” Dan says, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re handling this really well.”

“Thanks,” Jon says. “I, uh. I definitely expected most of the pushback, but it was different to actually have to defend this decision, you know?”

“Off the record, I think you made the right choice with him,” Dan says.

“Yeah?”

“Your entire e-board, yeah, but especially Tommy,” Dan says. “You’ve always been a good team, even after the breakup.”

“It’s gonna be hard,” Jon says. “But worth it, I think.”

“I think he wants to talk to you,” Dan says, nodding toward where Tommy is standing near Jon’s stuff. “Between you and me, if you or Lovett want to tell him about the asshole during closed discussion, Ben and I will pretend to know nothing about it.”

“Thanks, Dan,” Jon says, before turning back toward his stuff.

“Jon,” Tommy says, and Jon hates how much he misses hearing that all the time, how fucked up just the sound of someone’s voice can get him. “Hey,” he adds.

“You did great,” Jon says, unable to stop himself from doing it. “I knew you would, but still.”

“Lovett told me about some asshole during closed discussion,” Tommy says, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“He tell you he called the guy out?” Jon asks.

Tommy nods.

“Why are you—” Jon starts to ask, at the same time Tommy says, “I just wanted to thank you for like, recommending me. I’m sure the other applicants were all really qualified too, without being your ex.”

“I still wanted you,” Jon says quietly, and it feels like too big of an admission to be saying in a room full of people, too loaded of a statement. He can’t tack on an ‘in every sense of the word’ even though he means that in every way he possibly could.

“I think you have a really good chance,” Jon says.

“Don’t want to get my hopes up, but,” Tommy shrugs. “I’m looking forward to it, if that’s the case.”

“Me too,” Jon says.

“I have a standards meeting that I’m already late to, so I’m gonna—” Tommy says.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll, uh, you’ll get an email from Dan at some point tonight no matter what,” Jon says. He’s debating whether or not he should just leave it there, count this conversation as a win because it happened and a loss because nothing _really_ happened.

“Tom,” he says, as Tommy’s turning to leave. He knows he’ll probably regret it as soon as it’s out of his mouth, but he wants Tommy to know. “It was good to talk to you.”

“You too, Favreau,” Tommy says, and then he’s facing the other way, leaving the room.

It’s not much, not by any means, but it feels like more than enough after the past few months.

 

 

Jon gets an email later that night from Dan, with the subject **E-Board Appointment** **-SVP** , and he knows exactly what it is before he opens the rest of the email.

It’s an email sent to Tommy, Jon CC’d on it.

He scans the email, searching for the important information in it and—

_…you have received the necessary amount of votes required to be elected as Senior Vice President for a year-long term beginning July 1. Jonathan Favreau, SGA’s President-elect, is CC’d on this email and will be in touch regarding transitioning the e-board and everything else you need to know moving forward._

_Congratulations again. I look forward to seeing the great things you and this e-board achieve next year!_

Jon locks his phone and puts it face down on his desk, taking a few deep breaths. Despite knowing this was a legitimate possibility he was going to have to face, nothing makes it feel more real than reading this email.

He has an email drafted, the one he's been sending as appointments were confirmed. He’ll send it to Tommy too, once this sinks in.

A year ago, Jon probably wouldn’t have believed someone saying he’d get elected SGA president. He definitely wouldn’t have believed someone saying he and Tommy would break up. But both of those things are a reality, and Jon has a full e-board now, and still it just makes sense that Tommy is the final piece of this e-board.

He picks up his phone again, riding a wave of impulsivity, and sends Tommy a text. _congrats, you’re gonna be awesome. i’ll send an email before the end of the night with some formalities but i’m excited to have you on the e-board._ It’s been a while since he’s texted Tommy outside of group chats, because the last message in the thread is one from Tommy, a simple _love you_ in response to the text above it. He swipes out of it and considers deleting the entire thing, but doesn’t.

He opens his texts with Lovett and sends, _tommy’s officially SVP and i think i lied to myself when i said i’d be okay with all of this._

 _do you need to come over and get drunk_ , Lovett asks.

 _you live with tommy, genius,_ Jon types. _come to mine? bring ronan if you want idc_

Lovett replies with a thumbs up, and Jon opens his laptop to send that email to Tommy.

 

 

A few hours and a few drinks later, Jon’s pretty drunk, lying on his living room floor. Lovett and Ronan together barely take up half of the couch because of the way they’re curled up together, but Jon’s very content on the floor right now, thank you very much. Jon is drunker than both Lovett and Ronan, because they split a six-pack and Jon killed a whole one himself.

Jon picks up his phone and holds it over his face, while he scrolls through Twitter. He loses his grip and drops his phone directly onto his face, which feels like the universe’s way of telling him that this is all pretty pathetic, and Jon knows that. iPhones are heavy, though, when they fall from a short distance and it fucking _hurts_ as soon as it hits his nose.

“Fuck,” Jon curses, letting his phone slide off of his face and land next to his head.

“You okay?” Lovett asks, untangling himself from Ronan just enough to look at Jon.

“Fine,” Jon says, sitting up, rubbing his nose. “M’drunk.”

“We know,” Ronan says, and Lovett shoves him gently, laughing.

“He’s _fragile_ , Ronan. Leave him alone,” Lovett says, and they both laugh, and Jon is feeling very left out of this.

“You guys are cute,” Jon says. “I hate romance and love and seeing happy couples but you’re okay, I guess.”

“Hear that, Ro? We’re ‘okay’,” Lovett says.

“Stop teasing,” Ronan says, clearly some kind of sarcasm in his tone that Jon doesn’t fully understand. Must be some kind of couple thing. “He’s heartbroken.”

“I take it back,” Jon says. “I hate all happy couples.”

“We accept your hatred,” Lovett says, smiling. “It only makes us stronger.” He looks at Ronan and they both laugh, and Jon—

He fucking misses it. He misses Tommy, he misses having someone he can just look at and understand what’s going on, someone to laugh about nothing with like Lovett and Ronan do.

And today wasn’t easy, like, it’s fucking _hard_ to be around Tommy and pretend that everything is fine, that thinking about Tommy call their breakup a clean break doesn’t make him physically recoil.

“Fuck,” Jon says again, laying back down and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Fucking— _why_ did you let me drink a six-pack? _Fuck_.”

“What’s wrong?” Lovett asks.

“I still fucking—I still love him,” Jon says, and despite thinking it countless times, its the first time he’s said it out loud. He’s drunk and getting worked up about this for the first time since the night of, and he’d had more to drink that night than he has tonight.

(He remembers it happening, and he remembers the next morning, but not much of what happened in between. He knows he drank an entire bottle of tequila on his own because the empty bottle was on the counter next to a new bottle of Pedialyte when he woke up, and Lovett doesn’t drink tequila. It was the worst hangover he’s ever had, made worse when he remembered _why_ he’d drank the entire bottle in the first place. It sucked, and it hasn’t gotten much better.)

“Fuck, I—I’m still in love with Tommy.”

Lovett climbs off the couch and sits down on the floor next to Jon. “Breathe, Favs.”

“I fucked up when I appointed him. Why the fuck did I do that?” Jon mumbles.

“You said it at the meeting,” Lovett says. “You still believe in him.”

“He broke my heart, and I _let him_ ,” Jon says.

“I saw you guys talking after the meeting today,” Ronan says from the couch. “How’d that go?”

“I didn’t say anything stupid, and he seemed okay, so,” Jon says.

“Don’t forget that you have me on e-board too, like, Tommy’s still one of my best friends, so I can buffer if you need me to,” Lovett says, and Jon is so grateful for Lovett through all of this. He’s been really good, as someone who hasn’t ‘picked sides’ in the breakup.

Jon lies there, silent. He’s suddenly very tired, so he closes his eyes, and the floor isn’t comfortable, but it’ll do.

“Come on, Favreau,” Lovett says, tugging on his arm. “Your hangover is going to suck significantly more when you wake up on the fucking hardwood floor and I refuse to be blamed for it.”

“I don’t care,” Jon mutters. “Let me sleep.”

“Fine,” Lovett says. “But don’t complain tomorrow morning when you wake up on the floor. Ronan and I are taking the couch.”

At some point, Jon must get up, because he wakes up in his bed, still in last night’s clothes, with no memory of actually getting there.

 

 

Things are pretty uneventful after Tommy’s appointment becomes official. There are a handful of e-board transition meetings where Jon’s had to be around Tommy, but they’re so careful that it doesn’t really end up becoming a problem, except how the proximity is literally _always_ a problem when it comes to Jon and his stupid fucking feelings.

Jon coasts through the end of the year. He takes a few finals, passes those finals, and doesn’t move out of his apartment because he’s staying all summer, representing SGA at new student orientation. He throws all of his energy into that stuff, because it’s easier to make spreadsheets and documents and schedules than to think about how he spent almost all of last summer in Boston with Tommy, and their trips out to the Cape and—he’s managing just fine right now, is the point.

And before he knows it, it’s July 1.

He wakes up to a text from Lovett in the e-board group chat. _it’s day zero lets kick ass_.

 _happy first day everyone!_ , Jon sends back, adding _i’m bringing coffee to the office so don’t stop on your way in (this is mostly @ lovett)_ once he realizes how early he’s up.

Jon’s been working out of the SGA office for almost the entire summer, but everyone’s coming in today just to claim cubicles and say they were together on their official first day of term. Jon cleaned his old cubicle out last week and moved most of his things into Dan’s old office, so the cubicle is empty and ready for Priyanka to take over.

Tommy’s already in the office when Jon shows up with a drink tray in each of his hands. Of-fucking-course. Tommy sees him and gets up to hold the door open.

“Thanks,” Jon says, putting the trays down on the closest empty space he can find. “Iced latte, right?” He picks up the drink and hands it to Tommy.

“Thanks, yeah,” Tommy says. “You still remember my coffee order.”

“I mean, it’s not a hard one to remember,” Jon shrugs. “Plus, like, I got you a lot of coffee in the two and a half years we were together.”

“Yeah, that’s—” Tommy starts. “Yeah.”

There’s a kind of quiet tension that settles between them, neither of them saying anything else. Jon unlocks the door to his office and props it open. The SVP cubicle is the one right outside his office door, visible whenever the door is open, and Jon had always known this, but it didn’t feel like something he’d have to face until right now, when he’s sitting at his desk, looking at Tommy sit at his own.

“This is kinda weird,” Tommy muses. Jon hums, telling Tommy to elaborate without using words, and because apparently they still operate on the same wavelength. “We’re actually doing the thing we’ve wanted to do since we were freshmen. This is like one-third our office now.”

“It’s crazy how different everything is, but so much still feels the same,” Jon says.

“Yeah, it’s—do you think we could’ve made it?” Tommy asks, and that’s what finally gets Jon to pick his head up and stop fighting with his computer monitor. “If we’d kept trying, didn’t stop when it got too hard.”

“I don't know if you remember it differently than I do, but I fought really fucking hard for you,” Jon says.

“Jon—that's not what I—we just couldn't do it anymore,” Tommy says

“I wanted to! You didn't even—you could've fought harder to save this thing instead of ending it,” Jon says, and they’re in this dangerous territory now, of knowing each other too well, of knowing what makes each other tick, of knowing exactly how to hurt each other in the worst ways.

“It was mutual. We decided it _together_! It was for the best, and you and I both know that,” Tommy says. “So don’t act like you don’t all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, I fucking know that, but it doesn’t mean I wanted this to be permanent,” Jon says, harsh. “We had to take a break, I _know_ that we did, but I didn’t want it to be forever.”

It’s the most honest Jon’s gotten about the breakup to anyone since it happened, and of course of all people, it’s Tommy hearing this. Tommy, who broke his heart even if he thinks that maybe he didn’t, who Jon wanted a  _future_ with.

Tommy opens his mouth to say something, but Tanya walks into the office. She drops her stuff down at her new cubicle and then stands in between Tommy’s cubicle and the door to Jon’s office.

“Hi,” she says, putting her hands on her hips. “Happy first day. If you continue to pull this shit, I will not hesitate to move to remove both of you from office.”

“You heard that?” Jon asks. “How much of it?”

“You weren’t quiet,” Tanya says. “And the front wall of this office is entirely a window. I heard enough of it to know that what you guys are saying is okay is clearly not.”

“We’ll keep it out of this stuff from now on,” Tommy says, and Jon desperately hopes that it stays that way.

Once the rest of the e-board shows up, things settle, and Tommy doesn’t really look at Jon again, which is probably for the best right now.

 

 

After July 1, Jon doesn’t see Tommy again until the last week in August, a week and a half before classes start. He’s sharing the same apartment with Lovett again, and Jon’s over the day he moves back in for the year.

They’re supposed to be finalizing schedules and budgeting for the first year leadership retreat next week, but Lovett’s explaining why Ronan isn’t moving in with him yet in more detail than is necessary and Jon knows he’s talking around the real reason. It would’ve been a lot easier for him to just say that they aren’t moving in together because they don’t want to be like Tommy and Jon, end up the way that they did. Lovett and Ronan were first-hand witnesses to Tommy and Jon fucking their relationship up, and even though he never did live with Tommy, Jon gets it. The idea that something that feels unbreakable can fall apart without any warning. It feels impossible until it happens _,_ but Jon thinks Lovett and Ronan would’ve been fine moving in together. They skipped right over ‘boyfriend’ straight into ‘partner’ territory, and that alone should be enough proof that this is lasting.

Not that Jon would ever tell Lovett this, but he thinks Ronan did make the right move convincing him to renew his lease with Tommy.

Jon is only half-paying attention at this point, mindlessly scrolling through all of the emails he’s gotten from pro-staff about the retreat. The apartment door opens and closes, but they’re in Lovett’s room so they can’t actually see who it is. Jon has two guesses, though.

“Is that a murderer or Tommy?” Lovett calls.

“Not a murderer,” Tommy replies.

“I’m in my room with Favreau,” Lovett says. Jon must make a face at that, because Lovett mouths, “sorry,” at him.

“Can we just—” Jon starts, but gets distracted by Tommy walking past Lovett’s room to his own.

“Just what, Jon?” Lovett says, and when Jon turns back to face him, he’s smirking, the asshole.

“Retreat prep,” Jon says.

“Are you doing leadership retreat prep?” Tommy asks, appearing in the doorway. He looks good, like he always does. Summer always has been a good look on him, because he tans easily and he’d usually let his hair get a little longer than normal before cutting it, and he didn’t have obligations and schoolwork on his mind. Lovett had told Jon that Tommy was in DC almost all of the summer interning at the FBI. He spent the summer in a fairly high-stress environment, and still looks this relaxed and good and _happy_. “Hey, guys,” he adds.

“Welcome back,” Lovett says. Jon nods in Tommy’s direction and forces himself to keep skimming the email open on his computer, because if he doesn’t, he’ll stare, or say something stupid, or—

“Hey, Favs,” Tommy says, direct. “Good summer?” It’s the first time they’ve talked since the fight in the SGA office, and Tommy’s being a lot more civil than Jon expected him to be.

“Yeah,” Jon says. “I was here doing orientation stuff, so not too exciting. How was, uh, the FBI?”

“Really awesome,” Tommy says, and Jon can still read Tommy well enough to know that there’s a lot he isn’t saying. “Kinda, like, top-secret, y’know? But it was a great experience. I learned a lot, and D.C. is really nice.”

“Sounds like you had fun,” Jon says, for lack of anything better.

“Happy to be back, though,” Tommy says. “Lot of things to be excited for.”

“Like the retreat,” Lovett says, and Jon rolls his eyes.

“Would you like to actually nail down the budget allocations for the retreat now that you’re talking about it?”

“Can I help you guys with anything? I don’t want to unpack yet.” Tommy says.

“I’m forwarding you a few emails,” Jon says. “I’ll take any and all of your ideas.”

Tommy sits down at Lovett’s desk and takes his phone out.

It’s the first time Jon’s really had to work with Tommy all summer, and the knowledge that there’s still something salvageable there when it comes to a joint work ethic is promising.

Personally, everything still sucks, but at least there’s that.

 

 

Four days later, they’re at a campsite with the rest of the e-board, some senators and reps, and a bunch of over-eager first years interested in leadership. Jon was here three years ago, in their shoes. It’s where he first met Tommy, and decided that student government was something he wanted. Wanting Tommy came later, but only a little later. He’s come back the past two years as a mentor and on last year's e-board, and when it hits him that this is his last one, at least as an undergrad, everything about it feels bittersweet, but his best friends are here and he’s excited, so he resolves to making the best of this.

They spend the first day out on the ropes course, and even though it’s Jon’s fourth time doing this, it’s still fucking terrifying. He would prefer to stay on solid ground at all times, but he survives, somehow, and he doesn’t even have Tommy to hold his hand this time around.

It’s easier to share a cabin with Tommy than he thinks it will be, because Lovett and Ronan being around keep things normal and the first years don’t actually know what’s going on. Things are tense, but Jon had prepared for worse. He doesn’t really sleep well, because he’s worried about the presentation he’s doing with Tommy in the morning. The presentation itself is mostly a formality, since they’re presenting about the benefits and upside of getting involved in student government from the first few weeks on campus, and most of the students here already want to do that. Pro-staff decided they’d be the best to do it, and it won’t be the first time they’ve co-presented, but Jon’s worried their chemistry won’t be the same because their relationship status isn’t.

They still have it, Jon realizes the next day when the presentation goes really well. In settings like this, when they have structure, everything is fine. They do what they’re supposed to, say what the notecards say, bounce off each other better than Jon even expected them to. When they finish, they take questions from the students, because this really _is_ about them and about getting them to be as excited about joining SGA as Jon is to be president.

A girl in the back raises her hand, and Jon calls on her. He can’t see her name tag, but he’s pretty sure her name is Taylor. “This presentation was super informative and I’m really excited to get involved, but I wanted to know more personal stories about this, if that makes sense,” she says. “Learning all the facts that you told us is helpful, but neither of you really spoke to how being a part of this has impacted you, so I was wondering if you could.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jon says, going first. “Being in SGA has 100% defined my college years, you know? Like I said, I started out as a house rep and moved up to senator mid-year, and now I’m starting my second year on the e-board, so I really don’t know where I’d be without it being such a big part of my life. Aside from the multiple professional opportunities and leadership experience I’ve gotten as a result of this, SGA gave me lifelong best friends. And I, uh, I fell in love with someone I met here, so there’s that.”

Jon turns to Tommy, who’s blushing dark red, undoubtedly at what Jon just said. He won’t outright confirm it, and he doubts Tommy will either, but their expressions have to give away at least part of it. The thing is, he doesn’t regret saying it because it wouldn’t make sense to talk about all of the ways SGA has directly or indirectly affected his life without mentioning what is arguably the biggest one.

“I mean, yeah,” Tommy says. “Jon and I have had really similar personal experiences. We actually met as first years doing this retreat and clearly we’ve kind of been on the same path. I’ve gotten so much from being a part of this that I definitely didn’t expect when I came to this retreat as a first year.”

Weirdness mitigated. Sort of.

Jon’s starting to notice that the only times they’re okay is when they’re dancing around the fact that they have almost three years worth of non-platonic history, but sometimes it’s too hard to ignore.

They get back on track, answering questions about their positions and what they do and more ways to join, and the first years stay pretty engaged, so Jon considers it a win.

“Nice job,” Tommy says, once they’re back in the cabin. The students are with Priyanka at a committee presentation now, so Jon and Tommy have a break before they have more group stuff outdoors.

“It went really well. I think that they’re all really excited about getting involved, which makes me happy,” Jon says. “Sorry about the—”

“No, it’s okay,” Tommy says, cutting Jon off. “You were just telling the truth.”

“Yeah, it—I was,” Jon says. Tommy climbs up his bunk and sits against the wall, reading. Jon lies down and sets an alarm for 45 minutes, hoping he can fit some kind of nap in before then.

 

 

During the third week of classes, Jon gets a text from Lovett, fairly out of nowhere, about coming over that night to help him with a project in his multimedia class.

 _bring beer and we’ll order food_ , Lovett says, and then, _you can edit audio while you’re drunk, right?_

Jon’s already drowning in his own classwork in addition to all of his presidential duties, so he’s reluctant to say yes but does anyway, claiming a necessary break from all of his Power Politics readings.

He packs up his laptop and textbooks, and throws extra clothes into the backseat of his car, figuring he’ll probably fall asleep on Lovett’s couch and have to go to campus straight from there for his office hours. He stops at a store on the way, and picks up a six-pack of Miller Lite for Lovett, and a six-pack of the beer he actually drinks. Lovett only lives seven minutes away, not including the stop he made for beer, but the drive is when it really hits Jon how tired he is, even though it’s barely 7.

They won’t get much work done tonight; it wouldn’t be the first time Jon shows up with the intention of getting something done and falling asleep after accomplishing a lot less than they’d assumed they would.

(Unhelpfully, Jon’s brain reminds him that it happened a lot when Tommy could walk into the kitchen from his bedroom and throw off Jon’s entire night worth of actual productive plans, but he always liked those nights the best.)

Jon parks half a block away from Lovett’s building, and realizes, on the walk over, that it’s definitely crossed over into hoodie weather, the temperature dipping significantly from earlier today, and he’s wearing nothing but sweats and a thin, worn t-shirt, so he’s borderline-shivering by the time he knocks on the apartment door. On some level, he should still expect Tommy to answer sometimes, because it’s just as much Tommy’s place as it is Lovett’s, but he never actually does, because Lovett usually answers the door.

Tommy opens the door, and he looks as tired as Jon feels.

“Hey,” Jon says. “Is Lovett home?”

“He’s at a thing with Ronan. I think he’s sleeping there tonight,” Tommy answers, and Jon could kill Lovett right now, probably.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Jon mutters. Tommy hums, a questioning noise, so Jon continues. “He set us up.”

“Did he tell you to come over?” Tommy asks.

Jon nods. “If he’s staying over at Ronan’s, I can just go.”

“No,” Tommy says, a little too quickly. “No, stay—I think I need a break from thesis research, anyway. I kind of forgot about dinner. We might as well play along and make Lovett think his stupid scheme is working.”

Tommy steps aside to let Jon in.

“I brought beer,” Jon says, putting the bag down on the coffee table and shrugging his backpack off onto the couch before sitting on it. He’s still cold from outside, and the temperature in the apartment isn’t helping. Jon makes a mental note to talk to Lovett about the arctic temperatures they keep this place at. He could just do the logical thing right now and go into Lovett’s room and pick a sweatshirt up off the ground.

Tommy’s barely still in Jon’s sightline when he calls his name. “Can I borrow a sweatshirt?” Jon asks, going against the rational part of his brain that’s setting off sirens and screaming at every irrational part of him that this is a bad idea. Tommy comes back with his laptop in one hand and a sweatshirt in the other. He tosses the sweatshirt at Jon and sits down on the couch, deliberately keeping a cushion open between them.

“Thanks,” Jon says. He stands up to put the sweatshirt on and realizes, once it’s actually on him, that it’s _his_. He hadn’t realized Tommy kept it once they broke up, because Tommy had it for so long, Jon barely thought of it as his own, and Tommy didn’t give it back to him when he gave Jon everything else he left here.

“You kept my sweatshirt,” Jon says.

“Yeah, I didn’t realize,” Tommy says. “You can have it back if you want.”

Jon shakes his head. “I forgot it was even mine, so it’s yours now.”

“Thanks,” Tommy says quietly, and turns his attention back to his laptop. Jon looks over, and lit up by his laptop screen and the last bits of sun shining through the window, Tommy’s blushing a little.

Jon expected it to be more uncomfortable, the two of them sitting here doing their own stuff, not talking at all, but it’s companionable, and for the first time, Jon feels something akin to optimism about being able to spend time around Tommy and not fight or just outright resent each other’s presence.

“I ordered chinese food,” Tommy says. “I just assumed your order hasn’t changed…”

“It hasn’t,” Jon says. He pushes his laptop onto the cushion and reaches across the coffee table for a beer. “Want one?”

Tommy nods, and takes his keys out of his pocket for the bottle opener keychain. He opens both bottles before taking one out of Jon’s hand for himself.

“Has your semester been good so far?” Tommy asks, a while later after they’ve lapsed back into silence.

“Yeah,” Jon nods. “Stressful, but I think everyone would say that.”

Tommy laughs quietly. “I definitely would.”

“I took the LSAT last week, which was pretty fucking terrible,” Jon says.

“I’m taking the GRE next month,” Tommy says. “I don’t really know what I’m gonna do after graduation yet, though.”

“You might not go to grad school?” Jon asks.

“I’m still trying to figure out a bunch of stuff. Might just apply to some jobs and see what happens,” Tommy shrugs. “Anyway, are you writing a thesis?”

Jon thinks it’s a little odd how quickly Tommy changed the subject considering how many times they’d had this conversation when they were together. He shakes his head, answering Tommy’s question. “It’s not a departmental requirement for me, so I’m not. Got too much going on and my advisor says I’ll be more than fine without one, so...”

“Must be nice,” Tommy says. “It’s not _terrible_ , but I’m definitely losing sleep over it already and it’s still September.” The two things contradict each other, and Jon _knows_ Tommy, as a friend and as a partner and as whatever they are now, and he can say things are good all he wants, but Jon knows that’s probably at least a little bit not the case. He’d push further, express worry if he felt like he were in a position to, but he isn’t.

It’s all  just small talk, and it _sucks_.

“It’s going to be great,” Jon says, assuring. He genuinely means it, too.

The doorbell rings before Tommy has a chance to respond, and he gets up to answer it. Jon shuts his laptop, gets up and goes into the kitchen. He gets two plates, two forks, and a handful of napkins before heading back, and Tommy’s already back at the couch, unpacking the paper bag full of food onto the coffee table.

“I got you steamed dumplings and vegetable lo mein,” Tommy says, pushing the two containers toward him. Jon noticed Tommy finished his bottle, so he takes another one out of the pack and slides it down the table. Jon’s still got a little left in his first one, and he’s not drinking with any intent to get drunk, especially around Tommy, especially when they’re at such a weird place in their relationship.

They eat mostly in silence, but that’s pretty normal regardless of the situation. Out of habit, Jon takes a dumpling from his container and puts it on Tommy’s plate—when they were together, they’d do this every time they would order takeout. Tommy would always try to be sneaky about taking food from Jon, but eventually Jon started anticipating it and sharing. A lot is different, but there are certain things Jon just can’t shake, no matter how hard he tries, but right now, he’s not trying that hard.

“Thanks,” Tommy says, smiling. Jon wants to respond, but he has a mouth full of food, so he settles for a weird half-shrug hand gesture, that Tommy understands, and laughs at.

Tommy cleans up once they’re done, despite Jon protesting, “I’m an unwanted guest, Tommy, c’mon, I’ll do it.”

“Not unwanted,” Tommy says, so quiet Jon can barely hear it, and then he goes into the kitchen without another word, leaving Jon to try and figure out what the fuck he means by that.

After that, everything seems a lot less heavy. Tommy puts his laptop away, so Jon shuts his, and they agree to stop doing schoolwork for the rest of the night. The six-pack they started is empty now and Jon’s starting to feel the three beers he had, but Tommy takes a bottle out of the second six-pack and passes one to Jon. It’s the beer he got for Lovett, and it’s pretty shitty, but he drinks anyway, trying to pace himself with Tommy.

Tommy turns the TV on and opens Netflix. “There’s, uh, a new season of Last Chance U,” he says. “Have you started it?”

Jon shakes his head. He hadn’t wanted to, honestly, because it was a JonAndTommy thing, something they’d watched together before everything fell apart, and Jon knew he wouldn’t have enough self control to not text Tommy his thoughts as he watched it.

They watch three episodes, over three hours passing without Jon even realizing it’s been that long. Tommy is falling asleep when the fourth episode starts playing automatically, and Jon reaches across Tommy to pause it. He nudges Tommy gently and Tommy startles.

“Sorry,” Jon says, sheepish. “You were falling asleep.”

“Thanks,” Tommy mumbles. “I should probably go to bed.”

“I’m gonna crash here, if that’s okay. I probably shouldn’t drive right now,” Jon says.

“Couch is all yours,” Tommy says, smiling—it’s small and sleepy, but a smile nonetheless, and Jon loves it, loves _him_.

They both stand up at the same time, and Jon starts collecting the empty bottles scattered on the coffee table.

“This was, uh—it was good,” Tommy says.

Jon nods, because yeah, it was. It’s getting easier and easier to be around Tommy now, and if anything, this proved that they can actually do this—they can be around each other and actually be civil, maybe even friendly.

“‘Night,” Tommy adds, and Jon echoes the statement back to him. Jon exhales once Tommy’s down the hall, alone for the first time with his own thoughts and too many fucking feelings. Jon’s in the kitchen when he hears Tommy’s footsteps again, and when Jon turns around, Tommy is behind him.

“Sorry, I—” he says, and then presses into Jon’s space, pushing him up against the counter and kissing him.

It’s over before Jon even registers it happening, and he opens his mouth to say something, like _what the fuck_ , or _what are you doing,_  or _we broke up in February_ , but the words die in his throat because Tommy kisses him again, fiercely, and Jon is completely present this time, kissing back.

Tommy pulls back first again, and if Jon didn’t know better, he’d say Tommy just saw a ghost or something based on the startled look on his face, but he just kissed Jon and _that_ can’t be good.

“Fuck, Jon, I—” Tommy says, backing up. “Sorry, I’m—fuck, I shouldn’t have done that. _Shit_.”

“No, Tommy, it’s—” Jon starts, but Tommy is shaking his head, and all but running out of the kitchen. Jon hears his bedroom door slam.

“What the fuck,” Jon wonders out loud, and he almost follows Tommy, but stops himself, because he knows that if he were Tommy, he’d want to be alone right now. He’s shaking a little when he shuts off the lights in the living room and sits back down on the couch, after stopping in Lovett’s room to steal a blanket off of his bed. He knows he won’t really be sleeping tonight, but that isn’t stopping him from lying to himself about it.

Next to him, his phone vibrates with a notification—an email from a student organization to his President account that should have actually gone to Tommy’s SVP account because it’s about points. Against his better judgement, he forwards it to Tommy with only the message _points related_ before his email signature, and immediately regrets it as soon as the message is in his sent folder. He switches to the messages app and sends Lovett a text: _tommy and i kissed and then he freaked out so pls check on him, also i’m sleeping on your couch and fuck you this is all your fault._

 _didn’t think it’d get that bad,_  Lovett’s reply says. _i’ll text him now_ comes in another text a minute later. Jon locks his phone and puts it face down on the coffee table. He turns on the TV and immediately mutes it, not really watching whatever’s on the screen, but welcoming the distraction nonetheless.

 

 

At some point, Jon must fall asleep, because he wakes up to his alarm and the house around him is completely silent when he shuts it off. Tommy’s sneakers aren’t by the front door, which Jon takes as a sign that he’s already on campus. It makes sense—Tommy has classes before his Wednesday office hours start, Jon does his office hours before his only class, and they’re in the office at the same time.

They’re—fuck, Jon still has to do his office hours today, has to sit in the same office as Tommy and pretend last night wasn’t the weirdest night of the semester so far, and yeah, Jon’s office has a door that Tommy’s cubicle doesn’t, but the door typically stays open when Jon’s there.

It’s dumb to take a sick day to avoid his ex, who up until now, he had no problems working with. It’s really fucking dumb, but that doesn’t stop him from starting an email to Tanya.

 

 **_From_ ** _: Favreau, Jonathan E._  
**_To_ ** _: Somanader, Tanya_ _  
_ **_Subject_ ** _: Office hours_

_Hey,_

_I’m sick so I’m not gonna be in office hours today. please don’t move to remove me from office._

_From, your favorite SGA president_ _  
_ _Jon_

 

He locks his phone again, and packs up his laptop, needing to get out of the apartment as quickly as he can. Once he’s in his car, he feels like he can breathe again, taking a few deep breaths, gripping the steering wheel. He’s halfway home when he realizes he’s still wearing Tommy’s—his, not Tommy’s, he reminds himself unhelpfully—sweatshirt.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jon says, and he’s willing himself not to completely lose it on the three minutes he has left of the seven minute drive.

He gets home without falling apart, and immediately drops his stuff by the front door and goes straight for bed. There are two unread emails when he checks his phone again, one from Tanya in response to the email he sent before he left Tommy’s, and one from Tommy in response to the points inquiry from last night. He doesn’t open either email, and locks his phone, but it vibrates with a text before he’s able to put it down.

It’s from Lovett: _tanya said you weren’t coming in today bc you’re sick and tommy looked like a goddamn kicked puppy. also are you actually sick or are you just dealing with last night_

 _last night. i don’t know if i could see him today,_ Jon replies, because he knows Lovett won’t actually snitch on him. He put his phone down and rolls over, pulling the covers over his head and willing himself to sleep, because it’s the only thing that might get his brain to shut up about Tommy.

 

 

Jon wakes up to someone knocking on his door. He has no idea what time it is, but the light seeping through his closed blinds has dimmed significantly from what it was at 11:30 when he got home, so Jon is thinking he slept for a while. Whoever’s at the door isn’t giving up, so Jon concedes, pushing the blankets off of himself and getting up. There are more knocks at the door, and Jon groans.

“I’m _coming_ ,” he says, loud enough that maybe the person will hear him and stop knocking.

He blinks a few times on his way to the door, trying to get his contacts to stop sticking, and almost walks into the pillar in between his kitchen and living room, which is a pretty good representation of the past 24 hours.

Jon opens the door, and the last person he’s expecting to see on the other side is Tommy, but Tommy’s standing there. His hair is dripping and his light gray t-shirt is splotchy-dark from what Jon can only assume is rain, but he wouldn’t know since he was asleep less than two minutes ago. He’s drenched enough that Jon’s pretty sure he walked here from campus.

“I took your laptop charger this morning instead of mine,” Tommy says, in place of any kind of greeting, and he extends his hand to give Jon his charger back. Jon hadn’t even realized the mix up in his rush to get out this morning.

“Thanks,” Jon says, taking the charger from him. Jon wants to say something else, but the words won’t materialize. Everything feels just a little bit out of his reach.

“So, I’m gonna go,” Tommy says. “I, um. Hope you’re feeling better.”

Jon nods, and _then_ realizes that Tommy thinks he was home sick today, not home still heartbroken over a breakup that happened eight months ago.

“Wait, Tommy,” Jon says, just as Tommy is about to walk away. “At least stay until it stops raining.”

“Okay,” Tommy nods. “Thanks.”

Jon steps aside to let Tommy into his apartment, letting the door shut behind him. “Do you want a dry shirt?”

“If you don’t mind,” Tommy says, and Jon nods, disappearing into his bedroom. He doesn’t realize Tommy follows him back until Tommy is standing in his bedroom, and Jon’s thinking too much about the last time Tommy was in here and—

(“We’re doing this,” Jon said incredulously, less of a question and more of a statement. “We’re really fucking doing this.” He did everything he could to try and keep his voice even, even though he felt tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, and this has to be it now.

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “It’s—yeah.”

And then Tommy opened the door, Tommy walked out without another word, Tommy _left,_ and it was really fucking over now, wasn’t it?)

“Here,” Jon says, handing him a wrinkled t-shirt from the back of the drawer, one that he doesn’t actually wear too often. Jon turns around when Tommy takes the wet t-shirt off, because it feels invasive, after last night.

“You can turn around now,” Tommy says, so Jon does.

“Do you want coffee or anything?” Jon asks, mostly as a courtesy because he’s going to make himself a mug, and he still has manners, thank you very much.

“Can we—we need to talk,” Tommy says, “But yes.”

Jon nods, doesn’t respond, just walks out of his room and into the kitchen. He gets two mugs out of the cabinet and sets up his coffee machine; he wishes he had the one-cup type to cut down on how long Tommy just stands behind him, waiting for Jon to respond, or something. Jon doesn’t, because he doesn’t know what to say, what he _could_ say, because in no universe does Jon see this conversation going well. There are like, two good outcomes to the countless bad ones Jon can come up with.

“Jon,” Tommy says, eventually, when the coffee’s started to drip. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Jon asks, and it comes out colder than Jon had hoped.

“A lot of things,” Tommy says, and he sounds unsure. Jon turns around, busying himself with getting milk out of the fridge and sugar out of the cabinet. He puts creamer in his own mug, milk and sugar in Tommy’s, pours the coffee, and hands Tommy his mug. Tommy takes one sip before he puts the mug down on the counter behind him. There’s the entire length of the kitchen between the two of them once Jon backs up against the opposite counter, but that’s not much considering Jon lives in a shoebox of an apartment.

“I don’t know how to say everything that I’m thinking, so I’ll start with this,” Tommy continues. He takes a deep breath. “When you talked about the LSAT and grad school last night, it freaked me the fuck out. I realized that I’d planned so much of what was gonna happen after graduation around you, and _us_ , and then that was gone, and I’d avoided it for so long, but last night I—I thought about what I wanted, and it’s the same as it was when we were together, so I kissed you.”

“You were the one who brought up breaking up, Tommy, and then you just—kiss me?” Jon asks, a little frantic. “I haven’t been subtle about missing you. It wasn’t a clean break! It was—you were still intertwined in every part of my life, and I didn’t even get space from you. And I _know_ that Lovett was setting us up because he’s been dealing with the most miserable version of me for months, but you kissed me and I still don’t know what the fuck to do with that.”

“I didn’t handle any of it well. Breaking up was dumb, suggesting we even do it was fucking stupid. It was an impulsive, terrible decision, and you were _right_ , Jon. I didn’t fight hard enough to keep you and I should have. I gave up because I didn’t know what else to do and I _hated_ fighting with you. I don’t know if you know this, but being broken up fucking sucks,” Tommy says, and he’s smiling, a little apprehensive, nervous.

Jon takes a second, processes the fact that Tommy is saying everything he’s been hoping to hear. They’re on the brink of something big now, and it’s still up in the air but Jon lets himself want it anyway.

Jon settles on, “It didn’t have to be this way.”

“I know,” Tommy says. “And I know that it’s asking a lot of you to forgive all of that.”

“It is,” Jon agrees. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t.”

And that’s—

Eight months of bitterness and resentment, and not quite being able to get over Tommy no matter how hard Jon tried all leading to _this_ , to the first step toward fixing something that didn’t have to break in the first place.

Jon’s not expecting instant gratification here. He’s realistic about that, at least.

“Yeah?” Tommy says, taking a few steps toward Jon tentatively.

“It’s not, like,” Jon starts, and then stops, not fully sure what to say.

“Take your time. I just dumped all of that on you.” Tommy says, and Jon nods, grateful that Tommy gets it.

“We can’t start over,” Jon says finally, and Tommy’s face falls, but _fuck_ —“No, Tom, not like that. I mean we have way too much history that we can’t just erase.”

“You’re right,” Tommy says.

“I want to start again,” Jon says, words tumbling out of his mouth before his brain can even process it, but he doesn’t really need to, because he _wants this_ , deep down, in every single part of him. “I think we could do that, I think that I’m in a good place to do this again and not snap so much and take out school related stress on you.”

“I am too. The last few weeks together were fucking _hard_ , but they were still easier than not having you at all.”

“Are we on the same page here?” Jon laughs. Tommy nods, and Jon lets himself smile, _really_ smile—teeth and all—because he’s so fucking happy that they’re here. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“We’re on the same page,” Tommy says. He takes three more steps, and Jon thinks Tommy is going to kiss him, but instead, he just hugs him. Jon hugs back, so tight, because he’s not letting this, letting _Tommy_ go again. Jon buries his face in Tommy’s neck and breathes him in. He still uses the same body wash or laundry detergent or something, because it’s familiar and comforting in a way Jon hadn’t even realized before right now. Tommy kisses the side of his head, and Jon feels so light, all of the tension in his body gone, just like that.

“Hey,” Tommy says, just above a whisper, and Jon lifts his head.

“Missed you,” Jon says.

He takes the lapse into silence that follows as an opening to kiss Tommy. It’s nothing like last night, none of the frantic energy behind it, still hot, but gentle at the same time, like they’re both trying really hard to get it right. It’s nothing like them, but at the same time, it’s everything like them.

“Hey,” Tommy says, when he pulls back. There’s still only, like, three inches between them. “Just to be like, extremely clear, we’re dating again, right?”

Jon laughs into Tommy’s neck, and moves just enough so that his, “We’re dating again,” isn’t muffled.

Jon doesn’t want to move, and it seems like Tommy doesn’t really want to either, because they’re still just hugging in the middle of the kitchen, their coffee is definitely getting cold, not that it really matters, and honestly? Jon wouldn’t have it any other way right now.

 

 

Later on, they’re both in just boxers, lying in Jon’s bed and Jon is using Tommy’s chest as a pillow. They’re quiet, but the silence isn’t loaded or tense. It’s calm, it’s comfortable, it’s two people who love each other as much as Jon loves Tommy just _being_ together.

“Shit, my car is still on campus,” Tommy says, after a little while. “I should probably—”

“Nope,” Jon says, twisting his body to look at Tommy. “You’re in a commuter spot, right? They won’t ticket you in the morning.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Nope,” Jon repeats. “Stay over.”

“As if I were going anywhere,” Tommy rolls his eyes, and Jon kisses him, quick, before twisting back to lie down again.

“You literally just said you should go get your car.”

“I’m comfortable,” Tommy shrugs.

“Good,” Jon says. “I’ll just drive you to campus tomorrow.”

Tommy hums, and then it’s quiet again. Jon can feel Tommy’s breathing evening out under him, and Jon really isn’t that tired yet, having slept for most of the day He shifts again, with Tommy this time, so they’re laying with Jon’s chest to Tommy’s back.

“Night,” Tommy says.

“Love you,” Jon says. He presses a kiss to the back of Tommy’s neck and pulls the sheets up, letting himself relax.

Jon blinks awake again sometimes in the middle of the night, and twists his body around, propping himself up on his elbow. He isn’t curled around Tommy anymore, and Tommy is awake, a little slouchy, leaning against the headboard.

“Why are you awake?” Jon mumbles. It’s just light enough in the room that he can make out the hint of a smile on Tommy’s lips, even though he’s still squinting through tired eyes.

“Shh,” Tommy says. “Go back to sleep.”

“ _You_ go back to sleep,” Jon says, rolling over so he’s actually facing Tommy. “Why are you up?”

“I literally woke up three minutes ago. I just haven’t fallen back asleep,” Tommy says. “Nothing’s wrong, though. Promise.”

Jon nods, even though he’s sure Tommy can’t really see it. “You should still come back to bed.”

Tommy doesn’t say anything else, just moves over to Jon again, slots himself into Jon’s side, and kisses the side of Jon’s neck.

“Love you,” Tommy says, and Jon’s asleep again before he knows it.

 

 

The next time Jon wakes up, Tommy’s alarm is going off. Tommy is still asleep, barely even stirring as the alarm blares, so Jon untangles himself from Tommy to reach over and turn it off. If nothing’s changed, Jon knows that there will be at least four more alarms to really ensure that Tommy wakes up. Jon’s awake for good, though, and he doesn’t really know Tommy’s schedule, but he doesn’t technically have to be on campus for another three hours, so he doesn’t even make an effort to get up. Tommy shifts a little, and Jon wraps an arm around his waist and just—he wants to remember this, even though he’s lived this before and he’ll live this again, there’s nothing like waking up next to Tommy.

Eventually, the need to pee outweighs how nice it is to be in bed with Tommy, so he has to get up, and while he’s at it, he starts a pot of coffee and briefly considers breakfast, but figures they’ll either stop for more coffee on the way to campus or he’ll just eat in his office hours. Tommy will probably find something in his kitchen to eat, though.

He goes back to bed with two mugs of coffee, putting Tommy’s down on the nightstand before getting back in bed with his own, sitting up against the headboard. His alarm starts to go off, just as Tommy’s second one does, and Jon shakes his head, because of _course_. Tommy startles, thanks to both alarms, and reaches over to shut his own off before Jon could get to it.

“G’morning,” Tommy says, voice still sleep-rough. He’s squinting at Jon through one eye. “Do I smell coffee?”

Jon nods. “Yours is right next to your phone.”

Tommy sits up and blinks a few times, orienting himself. Jon doesn’t really know what he’s thinking, but he hopes that he isn’t regretting waking up in Jon’s bed. “Best boyfriend ever,” he says eventually.

 _Damn right_ , Jon thinks, but doesn’t say. He just sips his coffee and smiles at Tommy.

Eventually, they pull themselves out of bed to get ready. Tommy borrows another one of Jon’s shirts, because he hadn’t actually showed up last night with the intention of staying over. They do end up stopping for more coffee, like nothing at all has changed from what used to be routine the first time they were together.

Tommy slips his hand into Jon’s halfway through the parking lot on their way to the student center and doesn’t let go even once they get inside. They didn’t actually have the conversation about telling people, Jon has a feeling that this would never last as a secret, anyway.

That thought is confirmed as soon as Jon swipes his ID to unlock the main office door. Alyssa turns her head to say hi, turns back toward her computer, and then swivels the entire chair around to look at them again.

“Is that—are you two? Guys!” she says.

“Yeah, we’re—” Tommy says, raising their hands in place of saying anything else. He’s beaming, and so is Jon, unable to keep the smile off of his face right now.

“I told you it would be okay, didn’t I?” Alyssa says, directed at Jon.

“You were right,” Jon says.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Alyssa smirks, but then her face softens into a smile. “I’m really so glad you two were able to work this out.”

“Me too,” Tommy says.

“Okay, you distracted me, so I’m going to get back to this senate handbook, but I’m really happy for you!” Alyssa swivels back around.

Jon expects Tommy to let go of his hand when they pass his cubicle, but he doesn’t, just shrugs his messenger bag off of his other shoulder onto the floor and follows Jon right to his office. Jon unlocks the door, and as soon as he shuts it, Tommy is pressing him against it and kissing him.

There are definitely worse ways to start the day.

“We should—not against the door,” Jon gasps. Tommy nods, and without even letting go of Jon, moves so he’s practically sitting on Jon’s desk. Jon slips his hands under Tommy’s shirt, and Tommy leans in closer.

The door opens, and fucking—Lovett is standing there.

Jon steps back, breathing heavy, and Tommy is blushing darker than Jon’s ever seen. “Fuck,” Tommy breathes. “I’m gonna go.”

“Absolutely not,” Lovett says. “I think someone is going to have to explain something because when I left this office yesterday, Jon, you faked sick to be sad, and Tommy, you were miserable.”

“Your stupid scheme worked,” Jon says; behind him, he hears Tommy snickering at the way he pronounced scheme, and he has to laugh too. “In some backwards, honestly fucking sad way, it actually got us back together.”

“Ronan also thought it was stupid, but I knew it would work.”

“Good work, Lovett,” Tommy says.

“Happy to be of service,” Lovett says. “But I really came in here because I needed this signed off on yesterday and _someone_ was out of the office. And then you can go back to doing... whatever you were doing in here.”

Jon takes the paper from Lovett’s hand, and only skims it before turning around to sign it against a cabinet.

“Have fun,” Lovett wiggles his eyebrows. He leaves and shuts the door behind him,

“We could,” Jon smirks.

“We _shouldn’t_ ,” Tommy says, but he pulls Jon back in for another kiss anyway. When he pulls back again, he smiles. “You probably have, like, thirty emails from missing one day.”

“Yes, because the emails are the priority,” Jon says, and he leans in for one more kiss. “Okay, work now. Come home with me again tonight?”

“Sounds good,” Tommy says. He leaves Jon’s office, but keeps the door open this time.

When Jon powers up his computer, there _are_ a sizeable amount of unread emails, but the most recent one catches his eye first.

 

 **_From_** _:_ _Lovett, Jonathan I_  
**_To_** _: Aribindi, Priyanka; Mastromonaco, Alyssa M; Somanader, Tanya_ __  
**_CC_** _:_ _Farrow, Ronan; Favreau, Jonathan E; Vietor, Thomas F_ _  
_ **_Subject_** : _FINALLY_

_Hello fellow e-board (and Ronan—I feel like you’d want to be looped in on the outcome of what you called a “stupid plan”),_

_Jon and Tommy are officially back together, which means my plan worked, and also, if Jon’s office door is closed, I would strongly advise knocking before entering._

_Have a great day!_

 

It takes everything in Jon not to reply-all with a couple of middle finger emojis, but figures he’s so fucking happy right now, he might as well just let this happen.

 

 

Things are really good. Like, so fucking good, Jon almost can’t believe it was this easy to slot himself back into Tommy’s life and have Tommy slot back into his. It’s only been a couple of weeks, but in a way, it makes sense, since they hadn’t really untangled all of their wires when they broke up and so much of their campus involvement was dependent on one another.

Their office hour schedules are nearly identical, and their classes are all at similar times, so they spend a lot of time together, both on campus and off. At first, Jon thought they were just making up for lost time, but it’s been a few weeks now, and the routine has pretty much stayed the same from that first night. Jon wakes up next to Tommy almost every day, and falls asleep next to him almost every night, even if the in between stuff changes due to classes and meetings and late nights in the library and Tommy’s frat stuff.

It’s a rare day where Tommy has the entire evening free, so of course it falls on the one night a week where Jon is in class until 8pm.

Jon gets out of class a little early and the tail-end of a rainstorm is still passing through, so he heads to the student center to wait it out instead of walking home in the rain. Most of the seating is near the café, usually carefully divided amongst members of sororities and fraternities at the peak of the day, but since it’s late, there’s no one there besides a few people, probably commuters who have late club meetings, and Tommy, for some reason.

“Hey,” Jon says, walking up to Tommy’s table. “Am I allowed to sit here if I’m not a Psi-U?” he smirks and doesn’t even wait for a response, putting his backpack on the chair across from Tommy and sliding into the booth next to him. One of Tommy’s frat brothers—Jon thinks his name might be Brad, but it might be Brett, maybe Ryan, whatever—nods at Jon, and Jon waves back.

Tommy hums, focused on his laptop, but he smiles and grabs Jon’s hand and holds it under the table.

“Hi,” Tommy says, a few seconds later, once he’s done doing whatever he was doing on his laptop. “How was class?”

“It was constitutional law, so,” Jon shrugs. “Why are you still here?”

“It started raining and I didn’t want to make you walk. I’ve been doing homework, so it’s not like I wasted my time,” Tommy says.

Jon twists a little, puts his legs up on the chair across the table, and slouches down just enough that he’s leaning against Tommy instead of the booth.

“Comfortable?” Tommy raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, thank you,” Jon smiles, but he doesn’t move, because this _is_ comfortable, and he doesn’t even care that people are around.

“We can leave soon. I just want to get these discussion posts out of the way now so we can relax at home,” Tommy says.

Jon nods, tries to push down the way Tommy calling his apartment 'home' makes him all warm inside. He scrolls through his phone while Tommy works, and Lovett sits down across from them a few minutes later, a large coffee from the café in his hands.

“You look like hell,” Jon says, in place of a greeting.

“Gee, thanks,” Lovett rolls his eyes, and then takes a long sip of his coffee.

“You should do something about that,” Tommy says, eyes trained on his laptop screen the entire time, fingers moving over the keyboard. “Like sleep.”

“I don’t appreciate the way you’re ganging up on me right now,” Lovett says.

“Stronger together,” Jon shrugs. “But really, you should sleep.”

“Ronan’s still upstairs in the office working on a story, and he drove today,” Lovett explains. “I just wanted coffee.”

“You have an office that I know you’ve slept in before,” Tommy says.

“I’ve been doing paperwork and reading stuff over for him as he writes, but I ran out of paperwork,” Lovett explains.

“You’re just being a good partner,” Jon says. “Tommy waited for my class to get out tonight even though I gave him the keys to my place so he could leave.”

“I wasn’t going to make you walk in the rain,” Tommy says, clicking the touchpad a few times and closing his laptop. “I’m good to go whenever you stop using me as a pillow.”

“I was going to say something about how irritatingly sappy you guys are, but I’m actually, like, genuinely happy for you two,” Lovett says.

“Thanks,” Jon smiles.

“It’s been really good,” Tommy says, and even though Jon’s been thinking it, it’s nice to know Tommy is too, even better to hear him say it.

Jon turns his head and kisses Tommy, smiling at him when he pulls back. “We can go now.”

“You have to move for us to do that.”

Jon huffs, fake-annoyed, but stands up. “See you tomorrow,” he says to Lovett, while Tommy gets his things together. Lovett gets up too, to go back upstairs to Ronan. It’s still raining when they step outside but Tommy got lucky with a close parking spot earlier, so Jon doesn’t even try to make a run for it because Tommy is holding his hand, and that’s pretty fucking nice.

“Are you hungry?” Jon asks, fiddling with the aux cord, as Tommy makes a right turn out of campus.

“I could eat,” Tommy says. “Are you?”

“Yeah. Lets go to the diner that’s, like, three blocks from the far Dunkin’,” Jon says, and he knows that it’s a ridiculous way to describe a place, but he knows that Tommy knows exactly what he’s talking about.

Tommy nods, but he’s quiet, so Jon speaks up again. “We haven’t actually, like, gone on a date since we got back together.”

Something must click then, because Tommy laughs softly. “Are you trying to ask me out, Favreau?”

“Something like that, yeah,” Jon says, almost identical to what he did a little over three years ago, the first time he did this. He’s a lot less nervous now than he was then, and that time didn’t even really end up with a date, just a boyfriend. It’d taken them months to actually go on a date.

“Lets go on a date,” Tommy says and reaches over the gear shift to hold Jon’s hand, and it’s—

It’s the best, there’s really no other words for it.

**Author's Note:**

> student government 101: the student body elects the president and treasurer (in this fic, jon and jon - they both run opposed), and once they've accepted their position, the president recommends a senior vice president, vice president of operations, executive assistant and sergeant at arms, and the treasurer recommends an assistant treasurer for appointment. the senate (elected students) and house (representatives from the top student organizations) vote to confirm their appointments after a q&a type thing (which is the scene where tommy gets asked questions!).
> 
> thanks for reading! i occasionally hang out on [tumblr](http://ofspringreturning.tumblr.com) and i [tweet](http://twitter.com/matbarzaI) pretty often!


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